Snape In A Thong

And here is Angst's version:




Snape In A Thong


One of the best things of all about being a prefect, in Ron Weasley's estimation anyway, was the Prefect's Bath. He could go there, lock himself in, and have the massive marble bath tub all to himself. Nobody pounding on the door that he was taking too long, no litter from his various siblings, and none of Fred and George's pranks like faucets charmed to bite your arse, shampoo charmed to turn your hair pink, or make it fall out, or soap that turned your body black. No, the Prefect's Bath was Ron's favourite place, his own private heaven and haven.


So, he was feeling quite well, thank you, rather smug actually, as he made his way toward that holiest of places. He was looking forward to lying back and letting the hot water and steam lull away another failed Potions class, another horrible Umbridge detention, and Hermione's incessant nagging. He quietly opened the door, intent on being up to his neck in hot, fragrant water just as soon as possible, when he was brought up short in shock.


He gulped once and tried to shut his eyes, but they wouldn't cooperate. His Shangrila shattered, his heaven defiled, he gawped in appalled and sick fascination at the horrendous sight before him. His hated Potions master was disrobing, and for a moment Ron was confused. Snape actually bathed?? It was almost too much for his befuddled brain to manage, but then the Potions master slid his trousers down and off, and Ron's brain completely imploded.


He turned heel and ran. Ran as fast as he could, whimpering all the while and imploring every diety he could think of to have mercy and/or pity on him. he didn't care which, as long as they wiped his eyes of the most heinous vision imaginable.


He reached his own dormitory, barely aware of how he'd got there, and threw himself to his knees at Harry's bedside, wailing at him to make it go away, make it go away!!!!


"Make what go away, Ron?" Harry sighed, putting his Divination journal down. At least he had a viable excuse for the moment.


"Oh Harry!" Ron moaned, in obvious pain. "It....it was.......awful!" He scrubbed at his eyes frantically, trying to rid himself of the nightmare image.


"What was awful, Ron?" Harry asked, frowning at his best mate's apparent attempt at gouging out his own eyes. "And stop that!"


"I can't help it!" Ron shrieked breathily, burying his face in the bed covers. "I'll never sleep again!" he whimpered. "Everytime I close my eyes I'll see.....that!!!"


"What?" Harry asked, growing alarmed wondering what could have been so bad that Ron, of all people, would never want to sleep again. Ron slept like he ate, with gusto, as much and as hard as he could.


"It....it was.......Snape! That great bloody bat! He ruined my bathtime Harry!" Ron wailed, raising his head to look at Harry wildly. "the only place I could go that Hermione wouldn't follow nagging me, the only place where Fred and George haven't struck, and its spoilt forever thanks to that greasy git!"


"What....what are you talking about?" Harry asked warily. What had Snape done to Ron in the prefect's bath...........and why wasn't Harry there to witness it? That Snape, Harry reflected, was one sexy git. Not that he'd ever tell Ron that.


"I went to take my bath, " Ron said, outraged now, "and when I got there, Snape was already there! He was taking his clothes off, Harry! That was bad enough, having to see his bony, pasty white body, but then.......but then........" Ron left off to shiver violently and scrub at his eyes some more.


"Stop tearing at your eyes!" Harry commanded somewhat breathlessly. Ron had got to see what Snape had under those infernal robes of his??? Harry silently cursed himself refusing Ron's offer to tell him the password so he could also have a bath. "But then what? What happened?!"


Ron shook his head and scrunched his eyes shut, then immediately popped them open again. "Gah! I can still see it! I'll see it every time I close my eyes for the rest of my life! I'm begging you, Harry, obliviate me! Please!"


"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," Harry said irritably. He wanted to hear more about Snape taking his clothes off. "Go on," he urged, "what happened?"


"He took his trousers off!" Ron snapped indignantly, "and Harry....he......he was....," Ron trailed off again shaking his head and having a go at his eyes.


He was what??? Harry's mind screamed. A Greek God? Hung like a horse? God forbid...tiny?? What??? He managed to get a hold on himself, although it was a close call, gulped and whispered, "What, Ron? He was what, for Merlin's sake!"


"W-w-wearing....a thong, Harry!" Ron said, clearly horrified. "A bloody bright Slytherin green thong! He was bent over tugging his trousers off and I could see the back of it between his dead white arsecheeks, and fer fuck's sake, Harry! Obliviate me already!!!"


A thong?? Harry thought, gobsmacked. Who would have thought Severus Snape would wear anything as daring....or as .....sexy....as a thong? Harry shook his head, not being able to imagine such a thing, and concluded Ron must be wrong.


"Snape? In a thong?" Harry said doubtfully, even though he was practically drooling at the thought. Dammit! Why couldn't he have gone to take a bath?! "Erm.....that's...that's really sort of hard to believe, Ron" he said cagily, "I mean, Snape? C'mon!"


"I know what I saw!" Ron protested immediately, "and if you were any kind of friend at all, Mate, you'd stop talking about it!"


Harry shrugged and said, "Sorry, but I just find it kind of hard to believe is all. Think about it, Ron.....Snape. In a thong."


"You don't believe me, go look for yourself!" Ron said hotly, "I'm sure the git's still there! He was just undressing when he ruined my life forever, I'm sure he's probably getting dressed again by now, thank Merlin!"


Hook, line, and sinker, Harry smirked to himself, just as he'd planned.


"In fact, I dare you to go look," Ron snapped, "and see if your specs don't crack all on their own! I'll even tell you the password. Its "Lemony goodness!"


"Fine then, I will," Harry said, keeping the side up, "and I'll prove you wrong!" He got up from his bed and went to rummage in his trunk for his Invisibility Cloak. He may think Severus Snape was one sexy git, but he was a git nonetheless, and Harry wasn't fool enough to take the chance on getting caught ogling The Potions Master Who Hated Him.


Harry left Ron trying to scourgify his own eyes, and made his way to the prefect's bath. He whispered the password and then slowly and quietly made his way inside. His glasses immediately fogged up from the steam rising up out of the enormous tub, and he had to crouch down and use his T-shirt to wipe them.


It took him a minute to locate Snape; he scanned the misty room looking for his wank fantasy, and then a low moan from the far end of the tub made him look that way.


There he was, in the deep end, elbows hooked over the edge of the tiled tub, head thrown back, eyes shut, and Harry thought he'd never seen anything so devastatingly sexy in his life. What Ron described as 'pasty white skin", Harry found to be porcelain pale, and the sight of the twin dark nipples and black chest hair contrasting with all that milky skin made Harry's heart rate rachet up more than a few beats. The man let out another low moan and Harry felt himself begin to harden. The man must really enjoy his bath, he thought distractedly.


He chanced a glance away from the sexy git in the water, and glanced toward the changing area where he saw the discarded clothes in a neatly folded pile. Sure enough, a bright spot of green stood out atop the mound of unrelenting black, and Harry couldn't resist. Silently moving across the room, he saw that it was indeed a green thong lying there. He hesitated only a moment, looking back across the massive tub to assure himself Snape's eyes were still closed, and then reached out from under the cloak and quickly snatched up his prize.


They were soft, made of some silky, stretchy material, and Harry momentarily wondered what they'd feel like on. He stifled a giddy sigh thinking about sitting through his next potions class wearing Snape's own underwear under his robes and then going back to his dorm room to wank himself stupid in them, when another low moan and a splash from the tub area caught his attention.


Snape's eyes were still closed, clenched tightly, as were his fists, and a continuous stream of moans and sighs flowed from his mouth. His hips seemed to be rocking under the water and bubbles, causing the splashing sound, and making little waves ripple across the water. Harry, who was something of a wank expert, recognised the telltale signs of someone in the throes of imminent orgasm, and wondered how Snape had got himself so worked up when his hands were clearly above water..


He got his answer, to his eternal shock, a moment later when the water churned wildly for a moment, and revealed the source of Snape's carnal pleasure. Lucius Malfoy emerged, wet and shining, like some sort of alabaster demon, Snape's thick cock corked firmly in his mouth, and something green stuffed firmly in his ass.


Harry gaped, disbelieving what his eyes were showing him, and felt himself deflate as quickly as pinstuck ballon as he saw Snape dislodge himself from Malfoy's mouth and stand up, chuckling evilly. In a hearbeat he'd spun the blonde man up against the tiled side of the tub, removed what turned out to be a huge, snake shaped dildo from between firm, smooth cheeks, then proceeded to replace it with his own huge cock. He plunged furiously into the taller man, reaching round to manhandle his cock roughly, but apparently Lucius didn't mind in the least. He promptly began keening and moaning, begging in a breathy voice for Snape to "go faster, Sev! Harder! I love when you pound me!"


Heartbroken as well as slightly sickened, Harry spun on his heels and went back the way he came, not caring if he made any noise or not. He ran through the corridors, furiously brushing away tears as he went, the Invisibility Cloak flapping about him noisily, until he stopped to gasp for breath against the cold stone wall of the hallway.


He became aware that he was still clutching Snape's green thong in his hand, and dropped it as quickly as if it were a hot brick. Although he'd never actually thought Snape would ever have any interest in him, seeing him with another man, and Lucius Malfoy of all people, hurt Harry more than he cared to admit. He knew what he felt was just a stupid schoolboy crush on his Potions professor, but he'd harboured the fantasy that Snape didn't have a sex life, and that one day, after Harry was finished with school, Snape would somehow look at him and see someone other than his father, James. But no more. Not if he was going to go round shagging Lucius Malfoy!


In a surprisingly fast moment, Harry's heartbroken infatuation turned cold and he wanted nothing more than revenge for Snape shagging the man Harry hated above all others with the exception of Voldemort himself. Harry cast about in his mind, trying to think along the lines of Fred and George at their worst, and then he had it.


He snatched up Snape's underwear and quickly made his way to the suit of armour that stood guard outside the Great Hall. It was a struggle, but Harry finally managed to slide the Slytherin green thong up the metal legs and in place, where he adhered them with a permanent sticking charm. He stepped back to admire his work, and then an evil grin crossed his face. He made sure he was completely hidden under the Invisibility cloak, waved his wand at the thong-clad figure a couple of times, mumbling quietly, and then quickly fled back to the safety of Gryffindor Tower.


"You win, Ron," Harry breathlessly informed his best mate when he'd returned to his dorm room, "Snape wears a green thong."


"Told you so," Ron mumbled from his bed, turned over and was soon snoring peacefully.


"And everybody will soon know it," Harry chuckled quietly as he tucked himself into his own bed.


He smiled several times in his sleep that night, dreaming of morning and happy revenge when the thong would begin shreiking at the students crowding into the Great Hall for breakfast, begging to be returned to its owner, one Severus Snape, Greasy Git.


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